


The Press of Sound Against Our Ears

by Sovin



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Les Amis de l'ABC, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sovin/pseuds/Sovin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is too loud and Enjolras is overstimulated. Grantaire thinks he might be able to help with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Press of Sound Against Our Ears

**Author's Note:**

> The usual disclaimer applies.
> 
> More hurt/comfort fic. Enjolras is just overwhelmed by sound, and so Grantaire offers holding and quiet. Fluff. Fluffy fluffy things. Because writing our way through our issues is effective, right?
> 
> Please feel free to come say hey or ask questions over on [tumblr](http://www.sovinly.tumblr.com)!

A few feet ahead, Courfeyrac let out a peal of laughter, and Enjolras couldn’t help the brief flicker of a wince, hoping his friends didn’t notice.

Normally, Enjolras didn’t have much of a problem being out in public. Usually, he could tell the warning signs of a bad day, when the blaring of the alarm and even the coffeemaker started to grate against his nerves, which he always took as a sign not to do too much. And even that was rare, so the thought hadn’t even crossed Enjolras’ mind when he agreed to meet up with his friends for lunch today, the whole lot of them meeting outside the Musain before setting out.

Today, though, everything caught his attention. Every laugh, every murmured conversation almost hurt; he heard what seemed like every scuff of a shoe on pavement, every click of a car door locking, every whir of every engine. And that meant he saw every blur of movement, every waving passerby, every tilt of Bossuet angling his phone to show something to Jehan, every flourish of Bahorel’s hands, every glint of light on Cosette’s bracelet. He couldn’t tune it out like he normally could, couldn’t push it back to the edges of perception and ignore it.

He tried to breathe, tried not to flinch or startle, because they’d think something was wrong. It was just annoying, because he could handle rallies and protests with no problems, but today he couldn’t even handle the faint, tinny chords of music from a jogger’s too loud headphones. It was just too noisy, and the sky seemed too bright, like his computer screen when he was up too late at night.

And Enjolras _knew_ that it would pass eventually, had to deal with this periodically for years, but today just seemed extraordinarily inconvenient. He couldn’t exactly ask them to stop, and they were going to a place with even more people, and he tried not to wince at the thought, he really did, but he didn’t think he managed it.

He could power through it. He had before. He just needed to keep Courfeyrac and Combeferre from noticing, because they always seemed to think he pushed too hard, and he really _did_ want to spend time with his friends, but each ding of a text message alert made him grit his teeth and jump with a sudden surge of _annoyance_ at it.

It probably wasn’t even that busy on the street, but it _felt_ busy and he felt his skin start crawling.

As they turned a corner, Grantaire fell back to walk beside Enjolras, but he didn’t tease or start fretting, though he seemed to register the next little flinch at a woman calling a hello to her neighbor. He realized quickly after they started dating that, for someone who was often drunk, Grantaire was _aware_ of so many things. Whether it was just the way he was or a side product of all the combat style sports he did, Enjolras wasn’t sure, but either way he knew the other man had noticed.

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at him, fairly sure Grantaire would take it as just a headache and irritation.

But he just smiled a touch, look gentle as he offered his hand out to Enjolras, murmuring, “Come with me a minute?”

The others would notice. And they were already on their way somewhere, which was partly why Enjolras had discarded the idea of ducking down a side street for a few minutes. But then there was a harsh, whining noise of a drill, and he felt his face scrunch up against it, wanting to shove his hands over his ears. Instead, he glanced ahead and then sighed internally, nodding and taking Grantaire’s hand.

Grantaire’s smile softened, and he led them down the next street, seamlessly splitting off from the group, and then into a little alcove of an alley, finally letting go of Enjolras’ hand. It helped, a little, but he could still hear children playing down the street, giggles high pitched and too loud.

“I have something that might help,” Grantaire said, as softly as before. “You can close your eyes, if that will make it better.”

And then he reached up, and Enjolras almost startled, his brain registering it as Grantaire leaning up for a kiss, and that wouldn’t help right now, would be too much and not _helpful_ , but the man’s rough hands settled gently over his ears, fingers just settling against the back of Enjolras’ neck under the fall of his hair.

It took a moment of staring at Grantaire’s quiet, concerned smile before Enjolras realized the sound had dimmed a little, not as much as he wanted, but blocked out some by the hands over his ears. _Oh_.

Recalling what Grantaire had said, Enjolras moved suddenly, wrapping his arms around the slightly shorter man and burying his face against his shoulder, closing his eyes against the flurries of movement that kept demanding his attention. Grantaire only shifted his hands a little to keep blocking Enjolras’ hearing, letting him hold on.

Clinging a little, Enjolras screwed his eyes tightly shut, slowly settling bit by bit at the lack of sound, Grantaire keeping his hands still enough not to rasp against his hair. Gradually, the irritation and faint, coppery edge of panic receded, replaced with the lull of darkness and quiet. He still felt overstimulated, like the world was too _loud_ , but this helped, as did the familiar smell of smoke and alcohol and laundry detergent on Grantaire’s sweatshirt and his warmth pressed against Enjolras’ arms.

It took a while, but when he felt a little more centered, suddenly embarrassed, he let go and moved back, Grantaire’s hands falling away from his head as he straightened. Enjolras studied his face, but it was the same tender, concerned, but not pitying or frustrated look.

“Helped?” Grantaire asked, looking suddenly as though he thought he might have made it worse.

Enjolras nodded, feeling a faint rush of heat to his face. “It did. Did the others-?”

“I said we’d be a minute,” Grantaire said, look easing again, but he was still studying Enjolras. “Got overstimulated?”

They’d never talked about it, but Enjolras didn’t see the point of denying it, not now. “A little, yes. There was just too much noise. That helped, though. We could probably catch up, now.”

Grantaire tipped his head to the side a little. “… Do you want to? Or would you rather go somewhere quieter?”

“We should catch up,” he said with a sigh, shaking his head, but Grantaire just raised his eyebrows a little.

“Yeah, but would you rather go somewhere quiet?” he repeated, nothing demanding in his features, and Enjolras couldn’t help but nod again.

That got him a smile and the offer of a hand once more.

“My place is closer, if that’s okay?” Grantaire asked, his voice still quiet, not enough of a whisper for the sibilants to rasp over Enjolras’ ears. “I’ll text them you weren’t feeling well, it’s okay.”

He wanted to argue. He ought to argue. But it was tempting, and he took Grantaire’s hand. “That’s acceptable.”

Squeezing gently, Grantaire stayed quiet on the way over to his apartment, not more than a five minute walk from where they were, and Enjolras was already starting to feel the pressure of _sound_ and _movement_ building back up by the time they reached the apartment building.

Grantaire didn’t bother to turn the light on, leading Enjolras back to the bedroom after a questioning glance. He shut the door as quietly as he could, but the click still made Enjolras want to squirm away from it, as much better as this was compared to outside.

“Jeans aren’t comfortable for holding,” Grantaire explained as he started pulling his off and Enjolras rolled his eyes with a huff of affection as he did the same, only pausing to flick his phone to silent, reluctant to talk and add to the buzz in his ears.

Climbing into bed, Grantaire leaned back against his pillows, and Enjolras considered a moment where to go before he slipped in, ending up partly under the covers, the many-times-washed sheets easy against Enjolras’ skin. Sliding down, he wrapped his arms around Grantaire’s waist, resting his head against the man’s stomach, warm and soft, but low enough that his heartbeat didn’t thud like a drum in Enjolras’ ears.

“I’m not going to sleep,” Enjolras warned, quietly as he could. “It’s just…”

“That’s okay,” Grantaire murmured, one arm moving to rest across Enjolras’ shoulders over the covers, other hand settling, warm and comfortably heavy, on the top of his head, not petting, but comforting all the same.

Enjolras could still hear the cars on the street and the humming of appliances elsewhere in the building and the flat, but it was so much better. He closed his eyes against the faint slivers of light creeping past the shutters, relaxing slowly as the sick feeling of _too much_ crept away, the room warm and dark and quiet except for their breathing. Comforted, still not wanting to talk, Enjolras hugged on to Grantaire a little tighter in thanks, and smiled, just a touch, at the answering tightness across his shoulders, letting the world start to settle around him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Press of Sound Against Our Ears](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7048237) by [fulldaysdrive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulldaysdrive/pseuds/fulldaysdrive)




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